The rain had almost stopped, but the streets surrounding the presidential route remained dangerously slick.
Marcus Reed stood beside the federal command vehicle, staring at the digital map displayed on a large monitor.
A red marker indicated the last known position of the dark gray sedan.
Half a mile away.
The vehicle had stopped near an abandoned commercial building on the eastern side of the city.
Agent Evelyn Haynes stood beside him, speaking quietly into her communication device.
"Control, confirm whether the vehicle has moved."
A voice answered.
"Negative. Position unchanged for approximately four minutes."
"Any occupants visible?"
"Unable to confirm."
Marcus leaned toward the monitor.
"Show me the surrounding camera coverage."
The communications officer brought up several surveillance feeds.
One camera showed an empty intersection. Another displayed a narrow parking entrance. A third captured the front of the abandoned building.
Then something moved.
A dark silhouette appeared behind the sedan.
It was a man.
He stood beside the passenger door for several seconds, looking toward the street before opening it.
Marcus immediately recognized the movement as deliberate.
"Freeze that frame."
The communications officer paused the footage.
Haynes leaned closer.
"Can you identify him?"
"Not yet."
Marcus examined the man's clothing.
A dark jacket.
Black trousers.
A baseball cap pulled low over his face.
There was nothing particularly distinctive about him.
But the way he moved suggested that he was familiar with the surrounding area.
"Run the vehicle registration," Marcus ordered.
The communications officer began typing.
"Registration appears to be linked to a private security contractor."
Haynes frowned.
"Which contractor?"
"Northbridge Protective Services."
Marcus exchanged a glance with her.
Northbridge was a private security company that had previously provided temporary personnel for government buildings and commercial facilities.
It had never been officially assigned to the presidential protection operation.
"Why would a private contractor be monitoring our route?" Haynes asked.
Marcus shook his head.
"We don't know that they're monitoring us yet."
The communications officer interrupted.
"Sir, there's a problem."
Marcus turned.
"What?"
"The vehicle registration was reported stolen three days ago."
Haynes immediately straightened.
"By whom?"
"Northbridge Protective Services."
The room fell silent.
Marcus looked at the frozen image.
"Someone stole a security company's vehicle, parked it near the presidential route, and then disappeared."
"That is one possibility," Haynes replied.
The supervisor approached.
"What have we got?"
Marcus explained the situation.
The supervisor listened carefully before giving an instruction.
"Coordinate with local law enforcement. Nobody approaches the vehicle without a controlled response."
Haynes nodded.
"I'll handle the coordination."
She contacted Sergeant Miller.
Within minutes, two local patrol units were dispatched to the area, accompanied by federal personnel.
Marcus remained at the command vehicle, watching the surveillance feed.
Then the communications officer noticed something unusual.
"Agent Reed?"
"What?"
"The vehicle's headlights just flashed."
Marcus looked at the screen.
The headlights illuminated briefly.
Once.
Then twice.
A few seconds later, they switched off.
Haynes stared at the monitor.
"Was that a signal?"
Marcus didn't answer.
He was watching the far end of the street.
A second vehicle had entered the camera frame.
This one was white.
It slowed near the abandoned building, stopped for several seconds, and then continued toward the highway.
The dark sedan remained stationary.
Marcus leaned forward.
"Track the white vehicle."
The officer began switching between camera feeds.
But the vehicle disappeared almost immediately.
"Lost visual."
Marcus looked at Haynes.
"Someone may be coordinating movements between vehicles."
She nodded.
"Or someone is trying to draw our attention away from the sedan."
A new transmission came through the radio.
"Command, this is local unit responding to the vehicle. We have reached the location."
The supervisor grabbed the microphone.
"Proceed carefully. Maintain distance and report any movement."
There was a pause.
Then the officer responded.
"Vehicle appears unoccupied. Driver's door is unlocked."
Marcus looked at Haynes.
"Don't let them touch anything until the scene is secured."
"Agreed."
The radio crackled again.
"Wait. We have something."
"What is it?" Haynes asked.
The answer came slowly.
"There's an envelope on the front passenger seat."
Marcus's expression tightened.
"What does it contain?"
The officer hesitated.
"Agent Reed, the envelope has your name written on it."
For the first time that night, Marcus felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain.
Someone had not simply been watching the presidential motorcade.
Someone had been expecting him.
And they had left something behind specifically for him.